


Supply Chain

by romanticalgirl



Series: Supply & Demand [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Based on Fan Art, M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers, Office Supplies, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-29 20:11:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20238901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: It's not Steve's fault the only thing he has is a bright pink post-it note. It's also not his fault that the guy in the lobby is absolutely gorgeous.





	Supply Chain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mizface](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizface/gifts).

> For Miz. Based on [This amazing fanart](https://twitter.com/banannerbread/status/1160678421518622720) by twitterer @banannerbread.

Steve doesn’t know what the guy is doing other than glaring at the window like it’s personally offended him. Steve glances out, just to see if there’s someone or something out there, but there’s no one other than the regular commuters. There’s not even weather to be mad at. There’s no rain or snow or wind. It’s a mild day, somewhere in the middle of everything.

Leaning his elbow on the desk, Steve rests his chin on his fist and watches him. He’s gorgeous – dark hair, long lashes, dressed like he could kick your ass and make you like it. He’s broad and built and even though he looks angry, he doesn’t give off the aura of it.

Picking up a pen, Steve starts sketching on his post-it pad. It’s an eye-assaulting pink that probably glows in the dark, but Steve’s run through the blue and yellow ones, and Marianne in accounting is still in the office, so Steve can’t steal one of the hoarded packs from her desk. One of these days, picking the lock on her desk drawer is going to get him in trouble, but office supplies are worth it.

Steve starts with his face. He has a strong brow and sharp cheekbones, and a defined jaw covered in at least a day’s worth of stubble. He’s got a Roman nose, and Steve wishes he could see his eyes, even though he doesn’t have a way to address their color. His hair is chocolate brown with a few chestnut highlights, pulled back in a bun at the base of his neck, a thick lock of it curled slightly around his left ear and more of it brushed over his forehead to fall on the right side.

Steve draws his throat, a few lines for loose hairs, a few to hint at the thick tendon that leads down to his shoulder. He’s wearing a t-shirt that’s tight across his chest, shoulders and biceps. He’s got a long sleeve shirt on underneath it and a leather jacket draped on the seat beside him.

He blinks slowly and turns his head, looking directly at Steve. Steve swallows hard and can feel his face get hot. He uses the knuckle of his right pointer finger to push his glasses up then waves.

Like an idiot.

The guy’s lips curve into a smile and he shakes his head and goes back to glaring at the window. Steve’s just about to say something when Mr. Higgins and Colonel Fury walk out of the elevator. “Barnes.”

The guy – Barnes – looks over at them both, his gaze flat, expression cool. “I’ve been waiting out here for a half hour. Given that you don’t seem to think my time is valuable, I’m not sure we have anything to say to each other.”

“I think we have something you’ll want to listen to.” Fury meets Barnes’s gaze with one of his own, just as expressionless. “I imagine by the time we get to the meeting room, we’ll have you intrigued.”

Barnes glances over at Steve who blushes, slaps his hand down on the post-it, and gives him an approximation of a smile. He gets a smirk back from Barnes as he stands up, slipping his jacket on. “All right, but before we get started, what’s the company policy on fraternization?”

“I’m not sure what that – “

“The policy.”

Fury sighs, like this is a fight he doesn't have any intention of taking on. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with performance, there’s no rule against it.”

“Good.” He walks over to the desk and pulls the post-it pad out from under Steve’s hand. He glances at it and tears Steve’s picture off, writing a phone number on the paper beneath. He tucks the picture in the pocket of his jacket and taps the number. “Call me, and you can have this back.”

Steve’s pretty sure he gapes like a fish as Barnes turns and follows Higgins and Fury into the elevator. He stares at the doors until they close, not sure he knows what just happened. People that look like Barnes do not give people who are scrawny, pale, and bespectacled – so Steve, basically – their phone number. He drops his head on his desk, banging his forehead on the wood. When everything stays the same and he’s convinced it’s not a daydream, he looks at the post-it pad.

He tears the number off and pulls out his phone, entering it into his contacts. Without really thinking about it, he texts the number.

_My name’s Steve._ He’s not sure what he expects back, but when his phone pings, he reads the response and smiles..

_I know. It says so on your desk._

_You weren’t even looking at me._

_Your reflection was very expressive. And I can read backwards. Call me tonight. I have to pretend to pay attention to these two._ There’s enough time for Steve to beam like an idiot before his phone pings again. _James, btw. Call me Bucky._


End file.
